The Long Road Ahead
by pupeez4eva
Summary: The Heretic doesn't manage to kill Damian, but that doesn't mean he's okay. Left broken and bleeding, he struggles through a long and painful recovery, with his family by his side.


His body is already screaming at him to stop, to just give up. Everything _hurts,_ and he just wants to be back at the manor, sitting with Grayson, and father, and even Drake and Todd, and sipping Pennyworth hot chocolate, and maybe having a cookie or two. Titus would be sitting by his feet, and he'd reach down to pet him, and despite the pain from his wounds and the broken bones, he'd be home; safe, warm and loved.

Instead he's here, lying on the floor. Grayson is lying still and unmoving a few feet away _(was he alive? Please let him be alive…),_ and the Heretic is standing over him, sword in hand, and in that moment, Damian knows he's going to die.

The thoughts rush through his head and he can barely control them. He thinks, _'please let Grayson be alive, oh god, Father, I don't want to leave Father, I don't want to leave my brothers. Mother, Mother are you watching this, please stop him, I'm still your son, why do you hate me, please, I don't want to DIE —)._

There's a loud cry, a sound of desperation — _Grayson?_ — but then the sword slashes through him, and he feels cold agony slice through his body. He let's out an agonised howl, and forces his eyes open. He expects to see the Heretic standing there, staring down at him in sick triumph, but all he sees is the ceiling. He lets out choked, desperate gasps, as pain rushes through him in consistent waves.

He's not sure what's happening anymore. He can hear noises — loud shouts, something slamming against the ground. He wants to focus, and he's trained to be better than this, to rise above this pain. But it's consuming him, the broken bones, the blood loss, the pain, and he can only lie still on the floor, waiting for the Heretic to come and finish him off.

A dark shadow looms over him. _'He's back, this is it.'_

His previous desperation to survive seems to have faded, and he waits with almost a resigned acceptance. A small, distant part of him feels embarrassed about this, because he is _Batman's_ son (and Talia's, but he can't bring himself to think of her now) and he should be able to rise above this pain. Batman doesn't give up, and neither should Robin. But as hard as he tries, he can't bring himself to feel like the strong, brave son of Batman that he'd always aspired to be. Instead he feels like a ten year old boy, scared, hurt, and desperate for his Father and big brother.

The face comes into focus, and it takes him a moment to realise that this isn't the Heretic. He stares blankly for a moment, thinking, _Grayson,_ but refusing to accept it. Because Grayson was hurt, Grayson was lying somewhere to the side, unmoving, maybe even dead _(please don't let him be dead, don't kill my big brother, don't let father lose two sons…),_ and Grayson wouldn't be saving him.

"Dami," Grayson chokes. Perhaps he's imagining this. It's a nice image, Damian decides; he may not be at the manor, surrounded by his family, warm and safe, but right now his big brother is here, and he feels content.

"Dami. Dami please, just hang on, Bruce'll be here, soon — _please."_

"I'm sorry," Damian whispers. He's not sure if it comes out right, because it barely feels like his lips are moving. But Grayson seems to understand him. He let's out another choked sob.

"Oh god Dami, it's not your fault — _none_ of this is your fault. You haven't done anything wrong."

Damian doesn't want to close his eyes. He's afraid that if he does, Grayson will disappear, and he'll be alone again, on the cold, hard floor. But he's just too tired, and it's too much of an effort to keep them open. He feels them slide shut, and to his relief, the feeling of Grayson's hand in his own doesn't fade.

"Don't go to sleep," Grayson pleads, his voice trembling. "Bruce…he'll be here soon, Damian, just stay awake okay? We're going to help you, you're going to be fine — "

"Tired…"

"I know, I know! But — but I promise…I promise we'll…please, just don't go Damian, you…you can't…I need you, you're my baby brother I — _I love you,_ please — "

"Love you too," Damian whispers, and he hopes, he _really_ hopes, that Grayson heard him. He can hear the desperate sobs above him, and he wants to open his eyes. Maybe it won't be too hard — it doesn't even hurt that much anymore — but when he tries, they won't budge.

 _'This is Grayson. Do it for Grayson.'_ He owes it to his brother, after everything Grayson has done for him. He tries again, and manages to open them. He's squinting, and they're only small slivers, but Grayson let's out a shaky smile, and squeezes his hand.

"There you go," he murmurs. "You're so brave Dami, you know that? You're so damn brave. You're going to make it through this, you're going to be just fine, and then — god, I'm never going to let you leave my side — " He let's out a shaky laugh, and tears pool from his eyes.

Damian tries to smile back. This really isn't so bad, he thinks. Grayson's here, and it doesn't really hurt anymore. He feels calm, content, and maybe he can let go now. But Grayson wants him to stay, and Grayson is his _Batman._ Robin can't disappoint Batman.

"Staying." Damian tries to meet Grayson's gaze, but his eyes feel unfocused. "Batman…wants. Good…Robin."

Grayson strokes his hair. "Yes. You're a perfect Robin, you know that? You're my perfect Robin."

And Damian isn't sure how long he can stay here for, but he'll try for as long as possible, if only to stay by Grayson's side; to hear his voice, to see his smile, however desperate and pained it may be. He hears sudden, hurried footsteps, and a spike of fear — _the Heretic, he's back, Grayson, you need to GO_ — but the shape that looms over him is larger, and darker, and the cowl is distinctly bat shaped.

 _'Father.'_

"Damian," Father whispers, his voice soft, horrified. It must be bad, for Father to be using his real name, out here in the open. "God, I — just hang in there son, we're going to get you out of here."

"You here that Dami?" Grayson chokes. "We're going to get you help, you'll be fine, just like I said — no, no, Damian, _don't!"_

He can't find anymore energy to stay awake. He wants to — there are things he needs to say to his Father — but Father is here, with Grayson, which means neither of them are alone. They'll be sad, but they'll be there for each other. They'll be okay.

He can hear their voices above him, loud, desperate, and he thinks, _'I'm sorry. I'm sorry I failed you.'_

 **…**

 **AN:**

 **Okay I seem to be on an angst writing binge these days. But I'm nearly done with my 'I Saw Grayson Kissing Santa Claus' fic, so I thought, 'why not post another one?' (although I have a couple of others to finish so maybe this WASN'T the best idea…but oh well, I couldn't stop myself xD**

 **Next one or two chapters will probably be from the Batfam's perspective.**

 **Anyway, tell me what you think!**


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